A new Harry
by Burning Ryoma
Summary: What if Dumbledore employed one person to guard Harry during his first year in Hogwarts? Can he change Harry's fate?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!

Albus Dumbledore glanced at his ___Defense Against_the___Dark Arts teacher. Professor Quirrell was not the same person since he returned from his one year trip around the world. Albus grimaced slightly from the smell of the numerous garlic that the Professor had around his neck. Quirrell looked up from his dinner as if he could sense that Albus glanced at him. Je then felt someone probe his head with_ legilimency. Albus checked that his defenses against the mental attack were up and his eyebrows went slightly up when realized that Quirrell didn't look at his eyes.

Quirrell then turned his eyes to the young Harry Potter and Dumbledore's suspicions about the stuttering Professor confirmed when he saw the painful look on Harry's face.

"Professor Quirrell, how do you feel about this year?" '_Let's see if I can find out his motives.' _Quirrell looked away from Harry to answer the Headmaster's question. He had his guard down and Dumbledore quickly invaded the Professor's mind.

~In Professor Quirrell's mind~

Albus looked around the room was in. The room was gigantic and the floor was covered by something dark. He mentally thought about light and the room lightened up. Dumbledore winced slightly when he saw that the floor was covered by hundreds of snakes. Dumbledore tried to vanish the snakes with his mind and several shots of stupefies but only a few of the vanished. Albus fought them for several minutes until they retreated back. The headmaster smiled because he thought he had won but that smile vanished when he saw all the remaining snakes combining until only one giant snake was left.

"Shit!" The usually composed Albus swore when he saw the snake. One giant snake with only one eye could only mean one thing. A Basilisk. The snake lunged forward and bit off Dumbledore's right arm. Dubledore gave up and blew up one big hole in one of the wall and escaped the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's mind.

~Back in the real world~

"I'm l-l-looking forward t-t-to it, of c-c-course." Quirrell muttered. Dumbledore frowned. The Professor didn't react to being invaded but how could he have so good defense if he was so ignorant?

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and the headmaster got to his feet. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem, just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the ground is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He shifted his eyes to the Weasley twins and he smiled widely. Oh, how he loved the twins! It's always so amusing when they are toying with Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Dumbledore sighed quietly when he heard that Harry was one of the few who laughed at his warning. _'Is he so immature that he thinks I'm joking? It is possible that he will attempt to uncover what there is in the third floor' _It wasn't the first time that Dumbledore cursed the ministry of magic for forcing him to take the stone to the school. Well, there is time to think about it later. It was time for some music. He coughed loudly a few time to make sure that all the students focus were on him.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. He chuckled silently when he saw that the others teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy warty Hogwarts,_

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot"

Albus laughed loudly when he heard his favorite twins were the last singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted, with twinkling eyes, their last few lines and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

Dumbledore waited until he was the only one left in the hall. He then turned his focus to his right side. He looked at the wall and saw something moving.

"Your mission is to protect Harry Potter from danger. But don't let anyone see you!" He saw a shadow nodding and he relaxed against his chair.

'_I just hope that my intuition, that this will be one difficult year, is wrong…'_ The headmaster sighed before he retreated back to his office for one night of well deserving sleep.

A/N: Well… this is my third (?) attempt at a Harty Potter fanfic. There will be some crossover with the anime and manga Naruto. But don't worry. I won't let it destroy the Harry Potter story.

As usual, beta reader(s) is/are welcome to help me to improve the quality of the story.


	2. The first week

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Perhaps Harry had eaten too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully- and there was Draco Malfoy, the first year Slytherin he had met in Diagon Alley, laughing at him as he struggled with it- then Malfoy turned into the hook nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold- there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.

Harry tried to sleep again but the dream kept him waking. He turned around in his bed and that was when he saw the note. He was curious about the note since it had not been there when fell asleep. He read it silently.

_Harry,_

_Read your potions book if you have trouble reading. Professor Snape hated your father and I think that he will hate you too if you can't answer any of his questions. _

_But it's only an advice,_

_Shadow_

Harry stared at the note but decided to do as Shadow had advised. He had seen how the hook nosed teacher had glared at him during the dinner. He searched his trunk and found his potions book five minutes later. He exited the dormitory and sat down on one of the couches. He opened the book and began to read.

The days went by quickly. Harry liked the lections about Charms. One of the reasons was because of the tiny teacher, Professor Flitwick. But it didn't begin especially great. The tiny professor toppled down from his piles of books when he read Harry's name during the call roll. But Flitwick quickly recovered and he provided to be a very fun teacher.

Professor McGonagall was different. She was strict and tolerated no fun during her lessons. She showed her skills when she turned her desk into a pig and back again. Harry had been really impressed but discovered that transformation was harder than it look when he failed to turn his match into a needle.

He thought that Herbology was easy. He had fixed aunt Petunia's garden every day so he knew a little about taking care of plants. He knew most of the non magical plants but had little more problems with the magical plants. Only Neville Longbottom was better than him during their lessons.

Astronomy and History of Magic were very boring. Harry had been happy to study history but he quickly fell asleep ten minutes during the lesson. Professor Binns was the only ghost to teach in the school.

Friday was an important day for Harry and his best friend Ron Weasley. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them-we'll be able to see if it's true"

The mail arrived and Harry smiled when he saw his beloved Hedwig coming at him. She landed on his outstretched arm and she dropped down a note on his lap. Harry gave her a bit of his toast and read the note.

_Dear Harry,_

_I know you get Fridays afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three?_

_I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig._

_Hagrid_

Harry borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled _Yes, please, see you later_ on the back of the note, and sent Hedwig off again.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," He said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new…_celebrity_"

Draco Malfoy and his goons Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. But Harry had been warned about Snape's hatred from Shadow's note so he ignored both the teacher and Malfoy. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black lick Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. The Potion master spoke in barely more than a whisper, but the class caught every word. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the snares…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…IF you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed after Snape's tirade before he stared at Harry.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly." What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Harry smiled slightly when he heard the question.

"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death, sir" Harry answered confidently. Snape looked at him with some surprise before he tried again.

"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Harry sighed in relief. He had read that chapter last night.

"A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons, sir"

Snape looked at him, with some respect maybe? and nodded. He then turned to the area where the Slytherins sat. He looked at Malfoy.

"What is the difference, Malfoy, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Draco opened and closed his mouth several times before he glared at his goons but they were even more clueless than him. He shrugged his shoulders and looked away from Snape.

Snape glared a little at Malfoy before turning to Harry.

"Do you know the answer, Potter?" He asked with less venom in voice than before.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I have not read that far ahead" Harry answered truthfully.

Snape nodded before he allowed Hermione Granger answer that they are the same plant.

Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Snape turned around and glared at Ron.

"Idiot boy!" Snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" Ron glared at the Professor but whimpered when boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him to the hospital wing." Snape commanded Harry. Harry nodded and helped Ron to Madame Pomfrey. At five to three Harry left the hospital wing and made his way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked he heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "_Back_, Fang-_back_"

He let Harry in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling; a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yourself at home." Said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Harry and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was not clearly as fierce as he looked. Harry looked over to Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting his infamous rock cakes onto a plate.

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke Harry's teeth, but Harry pretended to enjoy the cakes as he told Hagrid of his first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her…Filch puts her up to it, that old git!"

Harry then told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid looked surprised when Harry told him that Snape was not as evil as he looked.

"Curious…I thought he wo' hate you for his past." Hagrid realized that he told Harry too much and asked him to forget what he said. Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the _Daily Prophet_

_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark Wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

"_But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon_

Harry remembered Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.

"Hagrid!"Said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid didn't meet Harry's eyes. He grunted and offered another rock cake. Harry read the story again. _The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that day. _Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

A/N

Well…here's chapter 2. The first two, three book will follow the canon closely. But I'll change some details. One detail is that Snape is less evil against Harry. The reason for that was because Harry knew the answers and was respectful to him.

Anyway I'm a little happy now. UppCon, Scandinavia's biggest anime and manga convention, have released the tickets. I have been to two, three UppCons and I've seen how it has grown from just a few visitors to over three thousand visitors last year. Cool!

Anyway, sorry if there is some faults in the story. I'm a Swede and I have English as my second language.


	3. Flying for the first time!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Harry had never believed he would meet a boy he hated more than his cousin, but that was before he met Draco Malfoy. Still, first year Gryffindors only had potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lesson would be starting on Thursday-and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of me on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy' always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's, his older brother, old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry felt she'd had good reasons, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Hermione Granger, Gryffindors most intelligent first year, was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't by heart out of a book…not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called _Quidditch Through the Ages. _Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broom stick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrivals of the mail.

Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table. But Hedwig came this day with a letter in her beak. She dropped the letter on his plate, which had bacon and eggs on it. She picked one piece of bacon from the plate and flew away. Harry opened the letter and he saw that it was an unfamiliar handwriting.

_Dear Harry,_

_My name is Ginny Weasley. I don't know if you remember me but it was I and my mother who helped you pass the gate._

_You probably wonder why I'm writing you now… I'll be frank._

_I'm one year younger than Ron and I want to know everything Hogwarts. How are the lessons, the Professors, have you flied a broom, how many pranks have George and Fred done and many things more._

_I have tried to write to Ron but he is too thickhead to answer back._

_Give a letter to your owl if you want to write back. She will find our house._

_Yours, (hopefully)_

_Ginny_

Harry looked up from the letter.

"You don't answer your sister's letters?" He asked Ron and handed him the letter.

"It's just my baby sister. Why do I have to answer her letters? I have 3 older brothers here after all. And her name is Ginevra by the way. She hates that name and will hex us if we call her that name or Gin." He answered with a sour look on his face. He shuddered when he said that Ginny would hex them. Harry made a mental note in his head to ask her what spell she used.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things - this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh…" His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "… you've forgotten something…"

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?" Her stern voice asked coldly.

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Ron and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawn toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew to high, or always flew slightly to left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Harry; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and the come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three—two—"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet. Harry saw Neville's scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and –

WHAM – a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you got."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins, except one the boys, joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought _you'd _like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy." said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch. But Malfoy only smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?"

"Give it _here_!" Harry roared, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom but Hermione Granger tried to stop him.

"No!" shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all in trouble."

Harry ignored her. Blood was pounding in his ears. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushed through his untamed hair, and his robes whipped out behind him – and in a rush of fierce joy he realized he'd found something he could do without being thought – this was easy, this was really _wonderful!_ He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher and heard screams and gasp of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Give it here, "Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking nervous.

Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in booth hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people were clapping.

"No goons here to defend you, Malfoy." Harry called. The same thought crossed Malfoy's mind and he lifted his right hand, where the Remembrall was.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Harry saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down – next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball – wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching – he stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his hand.

"HARRY POTTER!" Harry winced in fear when he heard the familiar stern voice. But this time it had anger in it.

His heart sank faster than he'd just dived when he turned to the voice. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. He got to his feet, trembling.

"_Never – _in all my time at Hogwarts—"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "– how _dare _you – might have broken your neck –"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor—"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil –"

"But Malfoy –"

"That's _enough_, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle's triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend him but he knew that it would only worsen the situation if he came up with excuses. The Professor was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up.

Professor McGonagall suddenly stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him?

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

"Follow me, you two." Ordered McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Harry.

"In here"

Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty. The teacher closed the door and turned to face the two boys.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"

Harry nodded silently. He didn't have a clue what was going on, but he didn't seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs.

"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it." Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. The trio talked for a few minutes until Wood left to continue his lesson. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry.

"But you won't get away unpunished, Potter. You will have one detention with Hagrid in the future."

Even that punishment didn't destroy Harry's happiness. He wasn't going to be expelled!

A/N

Whew…the third chapter is done. This chapter follows the book closely but that letter from Ginny will have some effects later in the story.

Still looking for beta reader(s) for this story. PM me or write a review if you want to be a beta reader.

Burning Ryoma


	4. Is Malfoy too scared to duel Harry?

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

_Dear Ginny_

_Or should I call you Ginevra or maybe even Gin? *evil face* _

_I'm on the Quidditch team! I'm the youngest house player in about a century. _

_Most of the lessons are boring. The fun lessons are the Charms and, surprisingly, Potions. I'm including my notes from the previous weeks with this mail. Tell me if you want more notes later on._

_Please tell me what spell you used on Ron. I can't always shut him up and I'm annoyed that he is telling everyone that he is beating THE Harry Potter on wizarding chess._

_I should finish this up. Ron is making a scene here in the Great hall. _

_Yours_

_Harry_

Harry finished his letter to Ginny and turned his attention to Ron.

"No, I'm not joking."

It was dinnertime. Harry had just finished telling Ron what had happened when he'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.

"_Seeker?" _he said. "But first year _never_ – you must be the youngest house player in about –"

"— a century," said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Wood told me."

Ron was so amazed, so impressed; he just sat and gaped at Harry.

"I start training next week," said Harry. "Don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.

"Well done," said George, or was it Fred, in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too – beater."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred confidently. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go; Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"I bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first year. See you."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only – no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his –"but Ron was interrupted by an unknown voice.

"I'll be his second," The newcomer was a blonde around Harry's age and length. You could tell by his robes that he belonged to Gryffindor. The blonde turned to the other blonde. "or are you to scared, Malfoy?"

Malfoy glared at the unknown youth. This wasn't going according to his plan…but he was too proud to run away.

"Crabbe is my second," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had, gone the blonde took Harry's hand and dragged him out from the Great hall. The blonde was sweeping around without looking at Harry, just like the Professor had done earlier that day. They stopped in front of a painting featuring a lion and a unicorn.

"Albus," The portrait opened after the blonde said the password. "Tell Professor McGonagall about this duel. Explain the whole situation to her." And the blonde walked away. Harry stared at opening for a while before deciding that he should enter the hole.

"Who is it?" McGonagall's voice rang out when Harry came into the big room. Harry smiled when he saw that the whole room was decorated in the style of Gryffindor. The walls were painted in red and gold. She had several stuffed lions around the room. Professor McGonagall entered the big room from a different door. She looked surprised for a moment when she saw that it was Harry.

"What do you want, Potter?" she asked, not entirely unkind. Harry gathered his courage and told his Transfiguration Professor about the challenge from Malfoy. She frowned when Harry finished the tale."

"A duel is not forbidden but you aren't allowed to wander in the corridors at night. But I'll accompany you this night to see if Mr. Malfoy has tricked you. I'll be in the common room at night," Professor McGonagall promised him." Who agreed to be your second?"

"I don't know," Harry confessed. "He had blonde hair, was a little older than me and he had Gryffindor robes. But he didn't have a nametag. He dragged me here and then he just walked away."

Professor McGonagall delicately raised an eyebrow when he described the blonde. She smiled slightly and nodded before she escorted Harry to his next lesson.

Harry laid awake much later listening to Dean, Neville and Seamus falling asleep. Ron had spent all evening giving him advices such as "If the tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them."

He pulled on his bathrobe, picked up his wand, and crept around the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched blacked shadows. A human emerged behind Harry, and he greeted his head of House.

They exited the common room. They saw Neville sleeping on the ground in front of the painting. They wasted five minutes getting Neville to his bed. They exited the common room again.

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and walked calmly toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak – and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in the shadows."

But Harry and Professor McGonagall weren't hiding. They walked up to the surprised caretaker of Hogwarts.

"I'm sorry, Professor. One of the Slytherin, I believe his name was Malfoy, came up to me earlier this day and told me that Potter and another student would duel here illegally. But it's clear now that he lied to me. Can I give him a detention for lying to me?" Professor McGonagall was furious that Malfoy had used such petty tactics. McGonagall told Filch that he could have Malfoy for one whole week.

Filch looked delighted and walked away singing a weird song. The Deputy Headmistress escorted Harry back to his bed. Harry went directly to his bed, knowing that he had successfully escaped one of Malfoy's traps.

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry was still at Hogwarts. And he completely seethed when Filch grabbed his arms and dragged him away from the table. Filch waved to both Harry and Professor McGonagall and left the whole Great Hall in silence. This was the first time seeing their caretaker so happy.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Harry was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in the large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

_DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE_

_It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field for your first training session._

_Professor McGonagall._

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even _touched _one."

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealously and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

Ron couldn't resist it. He had to have the last word.

"It's not any old broomstick," he bragged. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as Nimbus."

Harry wanted to groan. The letter had told them they weren't allowed to tell anyone about the broom. So why did Ron brag about it to Malfoy?

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"No arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor." said Malfoy quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

Harry and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase," if he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team…"

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

"It doesn't concern you. Disappear, bookworm!" Ron hissed angrily.

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air. But Harry saw tears falling from her eyes. Harry frowned. He didn't like to see girls in tears. So he turned to Ron, but he had already disappeared.

A/N

Chapter 4 is done…Yay!

No discovery of the trapdoor…this chapter. I wonder how long our dear caretaker will be happy…I wouldn't want to be in Malfoy's presence in more a few minutes…

Karl Skywalker: Thanks for a good review. I can reveal that the shadow is not a canon character…but does he have some connection with the blonde?

Another chapter will probably come in one or two days…stay tuned!

Burning Ryoma

Btw… still looking for a beta reader!


	5. Practice a sport and tears in a toilet

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or any of his friends

Chapter five: Practice a sport and tears in a toilet.

Harry had a lot of trouble keeping his mind on his lessons that day. It kept wandering up to the dormitory where his new broomstick was lying under his bed, or straying of to the Quidditch field where he'd be learning to play that night. He bolted the dinner that evening without noticing what he was eating, and then rushed upstairs with Ron to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand at last.

"Wow." Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread.

Even Harry, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold at the top.

As seven o'clock drew nearer, Harry left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. He'd never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in the stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. They reminded Harry of the little plastic sticks Muggle children blew bubbles through, except that they were fifty feet high.

Too eager to fly again to wait for Wood, Harry mounted his broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling – he swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever he wanted at his lightest touch. But the fun ended too soon for Harry's taste.

"Hey, Potter, come down!"

Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Harry landed next to him.

"Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant... you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

"Right," said Wood. "Now, Quidditch is enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

"Three Chasers," Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a soccer ball.

"This ball's called the Quaffle. The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?"

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score." Harry recited.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called Keeper – I'm the keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring."

"Three Chasers, one Keeper," said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" He pointed at the three balls left inside the box.

"I'll show you now. Take this."

Wood handed Harry a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

"I'm going to show you what the Bludgers do," Wood continued. "These two are the Bludgers."

He showed Harry two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

"Stand back," Wood warned Harry. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once the black ball raised high in the air and then pelted straight at Harry's face. Harry swung at it with the bat to stop it from breaking his nose, and sent it zigzagging away into the air – it zoomed around their heads and the shoot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

The rest of the practice wasn't so eventful. Wood showed Harry what the Golden Snitch looked like. He explained what Harry's role was as a seeker. Wood then tested Harry's reflexes by throwing golf balls in every direction for Harry to catch. Harry didn't miss a single one which made Wood very happy.

Perhaps it was because he was busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he'd already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like a home than Privet Drive ever had. His lessons were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics.

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkins wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom.

Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Seamus Finnigan (which was a relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). Harry liked Neville, but he was a walking disaster in any classroom. Ron however, was to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about it. She hadn't spoken to either of them since the day Harry's broomstick had arrived.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important too – never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It was very difficult. Harry and Seamus swished and flickered but the feather they were supposed to be sending skywards just lay on the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand…and set fire to it. Harry had to put the fire out with his hat.

Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!" _He shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Harry heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-_gar_-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

Ron didn't like being to what to do as so he snapped.

"You do it, then, if you're so clever." Ron snarled.

Hermione roller her eyes at the immature reply, flicked her wand and said, "_Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The feather rose of the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone, see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said furiously to Harry as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor. "She's a nightmare, honestly."

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face – and was startled to see she was in tears…again.

"I think she heard you" Harry stated the obvious.

"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender Brown that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of their minds.

A thousand live bats fluttered around from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Harry was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll – in the dungeons – thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled. "Lead your houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy was in his element.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a Prefect!"

They passed several groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grasped Ron's arm.

"I've just though – Hermione."

"What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll."

Ron bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he sighed. "But Percy'd better not see us."

Ducking them, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin.

Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

They were curious of the reason why Snape was there and not with the rest of the teacher. But they had no time to investigate that riddle.

Quietly as possibly, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"Can you smell something?" Ron asked while he covered his nose with one hand.

Harry sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.

And then they heard it – a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed – at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.

"The key in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Ron nervously.

They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn't about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key. He almost closed the door but he opened his mouth in silent horror. Hermione was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks of the walls as it went.

"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and seizing a trap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the sound. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, the rushed against Harry instead, lifting its club as it neared Harry.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the insult and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

"Come on, run, _run!" _Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth with terror.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no escape.

Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: he took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arm around the troll's neck. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped – the wand had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blew with the club.

Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright so Ron pulled out his own wand – not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came to his head: "_Wingardium Leviosa!" _

The club suddenly flew out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over – and dropped onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot but didn't fall. It grew even angrier and grabbed the club. He then hit Ron with the club. Ron flew after being hit and crashed into a wall. Ron cried in pain before he fainted.

The troll turned to Hermione now that one obstacle was out of the way. He grunted in joy and raised its club.But a white haired man came through the door and yelled something in an unknown language. The whole floor, except for two small spots under Hermione and Ron, turned into a swamp. The troll struggled as it sunk through the swamp. The troll finally threw Harry of him. Harry hit Hermione and they both yelped in pain. The man had some problem containing the troll in the swamp and yelled to Harry.

"Use the same spell that your friend used." Harry obeyed him and used Wingardium Leviosa on the club. The club hit the troll's head several time and the troll gave up after its fifth hit. It swayed and then fell on its face. Harry sighed in relief and the swamp vanished. Harry looked around but the man had already vanished. First the blonde and now the white haired man, who are they?

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was still lying unconsciously on the floor. Snape and McGonagall arrived to the scene. McGonagall levitated both Hermione and Ron to the Hospital ward. Snape stayed behind and interrogated Harry. They lost five points but Harry was just glad that they were alive.

Dumbledore offered a lemon drop to his guest. The guest appeared from the shadows and revealed the same old man that saved Harry.

"I'm sorry I was unable to save the boy. I thought he had defeated the troll, but it was too strong." He confessed with a little shame in his voice.

"Don't worry about it. Young Ronald survived and will soon be back on his feet. But I'm worried about the security. How could a troll come into the Castle?"

"I'll take care of it. My seals will make the Castle a little safer." Dumbledore smiled with gratitude and the white haired man disappeared into the shadows again.

Dumbledore leaned back into his seat. Dam Fudge for making him guard the stone here!

A/N

What a pain to make this chapter! But I had to include both the Quidditch and the troll scenes. A little boring, I admit, but it will take some speed when the Christmas arrives.

Karl Skywalker: I'm glad you liked the Filch scene… I wrote the scene without much though and I was afraid it became a little…cheesy.

And some soccer: Barca against Arsenal! I'm looking forward to two great matches…and hoping that Barca will win.


	6. The Brave lions versus the Sneaky snakes

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 6: The Brave lions versus the Sneaky snakes.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" asked Professor McGonagall with cold fury in her voice. Harry had never seen her so angry. Her lips were white and he could image the fury behind her glasses.

A small voice came from one of the hospital beds.

"Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me. I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, because I've read all about them."

Both Harry and Ron, from his own bed, stared at Hermione in chock. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"Well – in that case…" said Professor McGonagall, looking at all three of them. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of beating a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione was in tears when McGonagall continued to berate her. But the Professor smiled a little when she was done.

"5 points each to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. But I'll have to take 5 points for disobeying orders. She then left the Hospital wing. Harry stayed behind and chatted with both his old and new friend. Harry had just left the Hospital wing when the Weasley twins ran into him. He saw that they looked unusually pale.

"What's up?" Harry asked curiously. What could have scared the unafraid twins?

"Don't walk around the-"Fred started the sentence. He panted hard as if he had run a marathon.

"-third floor. A giant three headed dog is guarding something there. And he-"George continued.

"- is not as friendly as Fang!" Fred finished the sentence.

Harry laid the puzzle in his head. The thing that was almost stolen in Gringotts is stored somewhere on the third floor. And Professor Dumbledore placed one fierce Cerberus to guard it. Harry was pleased that he had figured it out. And he had nothing to do with it now. He was sure Dumbledore had the situation under control.

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became ice gray and the lake like chilled steel.

Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves and enormous beaver skin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry will be playing his first match after weeks of training. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor win, they will move up into the second place in the house championship.

Hardly anyone had seen Harry training because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, Harry guessed it was Ron's big mouth that had told someone, and Harry didn't know which was worse – people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress.

It was really lucky that Harry now had Hermione as a friend. He didn't know how he'd have gotten through all his homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch training Wood was making them do. She had also lent him _Quidditch Through the Ages, _which turned out to be a very interesting book.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry and Ron saved her life from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the three of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view and they succeeded. Snape just glanced at them and went by them. The trio sighed in relief and returned into the castle.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway.

Harry felt restless. He kept thinking about the upcoming match and he was really nervous about it. He opened _Quidditch Through the Ages _and read the chapter that had advices about the Seekers job. He also read about the Wronski Feint but Harry recognized that he was far too young to do that.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match. Ron was in the hospital wing once again, this time because of a cold. Ron had pestered Pomfrey to let him go and see the match but the nurse didn't even listen to him. She forced him to drink the awful tasting dreamless potion. Harry and Hermione then left the hospital ward to eat their breakfast.

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

Harry felt terrible. He looked at the greasy and fat breakfast in front of him. His stomach lurched and he nearly threw out yesterday's dinner. The mail arrived and Hedwig arrived in front of Harry. She sat down on Harry's shoulder and cuddled Harry's face as if to cheer him up. Harry smiled slightly and read his letter.

_Dear Harry._

_I'm sure you're feeling terrible right now. I know I felt terrible when I flew for the first time. I took Fred's broom and sneaked out. I was so nervous and afraid that mum would find and punish me. But I cleared all the danger and had so much fun when I flew. So here is my advice for you._

_Ignore all the spectators and just focus on the Golden Snitch. Think of the fun of the match instead of all the expectations. And do one thing for me: Crunch the small snakes!_

_Love, Ginny._

_Ps. eat your breakfast. You will need all your strength. And not a word to Fred about this letter…or I'll make your life a hell! _

Harry smiled. Ginny had once again made him feel good. Harry looked at his dinner again and was surprised when he didn't find the breakfast overly greasy anymore.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Hermione joined Neville, Seamus and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers, Ron's rat, had ruined. It said _Potter for President, _and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).

Wood cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay, men." He said.

"And women," Corrected Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."

"The big one," said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for," continued George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry. "We were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

The Captain glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room. He smiled when he thought back to Ginny's letter. He was sure that he would be too nervous to focus on the game if it wasn't for her. He walked onto the field to loud cheers.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed she seemed to be speaking particularly with to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –"

"Jordan!"

"Sorry, Professor."

Harry laughed heartily when he heard the exchange between Jordan and Professor McGonagall. Lee Jordan, the Weasley twins' friend, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

Harry then ignored everyone else and only looked for the snitch. Harry grimaced slightly when he saw that Terence Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker, was copying every move that Harry made. Harry wished, not for the first time, that he could do the Wronski Feint. Harry noticed that Higgs was a very good flier, probably the best flier in Slytherin. Harry also saw that he enjoyed the game and didn't try to destroy the game like his teammates tried to do.

Harry saw that a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, and he panicked for one second. But Fred came and saved Harry from the attack. The prankster hit the Bludger and it flew toward Marcus Flint.

"All right there, Harry?" He yelled and Harry nodded. And that was when Jordan yelled something that made Harry's blood boil in excitement.

"Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Higgs had seen it too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the snitch – all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung midair to watch.

Harry was slightly faster than Higgs – he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead – he put on an extra spurt of speed –

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindor below – Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life. Terrance looked from the Snitch to Harry and back again. The snitch vanished and Higgs decided to save Harry. He raced to Harry and grabbed his hand just as Harry lost the grip on his broom. The crowd let out one collective sigh when they saw that Slytherin's Seeker rescued Gryffindor's Seeker. Terrance also grabbed Harry's broomstick before it vanished. He then hovered down and placed them both on the ground. He smiled at Harry and quickly raced up again.

Harry had sat on the ground for a while to let the fear escape his body. He then shook his head to clean his head of all unnecessary thoughts and climbed his broom again.

But this was not Harry's only incident in the game. It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head that the second incident happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall again. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees.

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back towards the Gryffindor goal-posts – he had a half mind to ask Wood to call time-out – and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

Snape narrowed his eyes from the stands. He glanced at Dumbledore who nodded to him. Dumbledore stabilized Harry's broom while Snape looked for the culprit. Snape saw that Quirrell had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

Snape discretely pointed his wand at Quirrell's robed and conjured fire on the robes. Snape smirked when Quirrell realized that his robes burned. The stuttering Professor cursed and ran away from the stand. Snape then reported to Dumbledore that it was Quirrell who cursed Harry. Professor Dumbledore didn't look surprised and it lead Snape to believe that the Headmaster already know that Quirrell was the culprit.

Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom. He saw something yellow and decided to quickly follow it. He took Terence Higgs by surprise and Harry easily grabbed the snitch.

"I've got the Snitch!" He shouted and ended the game. Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

A/N

A fun chapter to write this time. Ginny is already having some impact on Harry.

What a winter we have in Sweden this year! -20 Celsius one morning…and only 8 Celsius inside the house…but we have a white Christmas this year again.

Well…look for more chapters next week.

Once again: Looking for active beta reader(s). The story will be better once it has been cleaned from all the errors.

Merry X-mas, Everyone!

Burning Ryoma


	7. A letter and Going home for Christmas

Chapter 7: A letter and Going home for Christmas.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The twins could swear that they heard a hissing voice from the turban, but no one believed them.

The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. One of those owls delivered a letter to Harry when he had breakfast just before one chilling potion lesson. Harry peered curiously at the owl. He didn't recognize the owl.

_Harry._

_It's your aunt._

_Don't destroy the letter yet. I have a favor to ask._

_Dudley has become interested in martial arts. Do you also want to take fighting lesson? I'll cover all the expenses._

_Tell your owl that she must deliver the answer AFTER Vernon has left for his work._

_Petunia_

Harry stared at the letter. Did his proud aunt beg him to do a favor? A voice interrupted his thoughts.

"You should accept the offer. You don't want to be an easy target if you lose your wand, do you?"

Harry jumped in surprise and whipped his head to left. The seat was empty five seconds ago but the mysterious blonde was there now.

"What do you mean?"

"What if an evil wizard took your only wand? You will be a very easy target and probably dead. But you can defeat him if you surprise him with martial arts." The blonde explained sagely. He then walked out from the Great Hall. Harry decided to trust the blonde. He wrote a small OK on the backside of the note and he would send Hedwig later that day.

He then explained to Ron that it wasn't only Hermione that wouldn't stay in the castle. Ron and his brothers were staying because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie. The red head was disappointed but he understood the reason.

Harry looked around the parking lot but he didn't see his aunt. He heard a screeching sound and he saw a car coming toward him. The person braked late and the car drifted toward him. Harry backed away in fear and the car stopped in front of him. Harry opened the passenger door and he saw that his aunt sat on the driver seat.

Harry was very confused. His uncle had never let anyone driving his car. Petunia nodded to him and he placed all his things in the trunk. He then entered the car and she instantly speeded off.

"Why is Dudley starting martial arts training now?" Harry asked. That question had been in Harry's head for a while.

"He saw some with kung-fu films and he was impressed by the actors. He wants to be as strong as the actors but his friends didn't dare to enroll. That's why I decided to ask you." Petunia never looked away from the road.

It was strange. Harry had always thought that his aunt was a poor driver, but she showed him that he was wrong about that. She drove both very fast and safe.

"How did you get an owl that could take a message to Hogwarts?" She smiled briefly at Harry's question. Harry blinked owlishly. This was the first time he had seen her smile.

"I have some secrets." She replied mysteriously. That was the last thing they said before they arrived.

Harry opened the door to the house and saw something that made his world shake. Dudley Dursley was doing pushups! Harry blinked and saw how the more-than-average chubby Dudley changed his training to do some sit-ups. Harry staggered backwards and he saw his aunt smirking at him.

December was unusually calm this year. Vernon had decided to spend the Christmas together with his sister, Marge. Dudley and Harry sparred every day. Harry loved the fighting lessons from the first second. His teacher had showed Harry an untitled fighting style that involved many kicks and that used both speed and agility. Harry's fighting style was good against Dudley, who only used his size and strength. Dudley and Harry went to the lessons two times a week.

Dudley had changed even more since Harry came back from school. He was kind and defended Harry from his former friends. Dudley and Harry quickly bonded and acted more like brothers than cousins now. Petunia served more nutritious food and Dudley quickly lost weight. Harry was also confused about his cousin's intelligence. Harry remembered one incident before he left for Hogwarts. He smiled at the memory.

Harry put plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another _two _presents while we're out today. How's that popkin? _Two _more presents. Is that all right?"

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty…thirty…"

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

That had happened only a few months ago, but he was much smarter now. Had he really succeeded deceiving Harry all those years?

On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed not expecting any present at all. When he woke up early in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of his bed.

Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was _To Harry from Hagrid. _Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded like an owl.

A second parcel contained a note.

_To Harry from Petunia and Dudley. _Harry opened the parcel and smiled when he saw a book with the title: _1000 ways to become stronger._

He then opened a very lumpy parcel. It contained a thick, hand-knitted sweater in sky blue and fudge. He found a note on the sweater.

_Happy Christmas, Harry!_

_Mum wanted to knit an emerald green sweater but I told her that your favorite color is blue. The fudge is homemade and I helped Mum with it._

_I hope your family is treating you well._

_Love, Ginny._

Harry felt extremely happy when he read the note. Ginny had became his number one best friend and he had written to her how he was treated when he was young. Ginny had confessed that she loved reading cheesy romance novels. He sent her a famous Muggle book set that contained five books.

His next present also contained candy – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

This only left one parcel. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. It was a cloak. He recognized it as a invisibility cloak. He had read about those in a magical magazine. They're really rare and really valuable.

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and looked down. His feet were gone! He dashed to a bathroom and looked at a mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible.

He pulled the cloak over his head and his reflection vanished completely.

He walked back to his room and saw a letter on the floor. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

_Your father left this in my possessions before he died._

_It is time it was returned to you._

_Use it well._

_Albus Dumbledore_

_A Very Merry Christmas to you._

Harry thanked Dumbledore in his mind and walked down to the kitchen to celebrate the day. The three of them had a very fun Christmas this year. They joked with each other and both Dudley and Petunia showed Harry many other sides of them. The days quickly went by and Harry went back to the school the day before term started.

Wood was very happy that Harry was fitter than ever and he took it out on his team. Even the endless rain had that had replaced the snow couldn't damper his spirit. The Weasley twins complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Harry was on his side. If they won their next game, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years.

Harry met with Dumbledore after one of Wood's training. Harry bowed to Dumbledore with respect.

"Thank you very much for your present, Professor Dumbledore." Dumbledore smiled at him and gestured to Harry that he would follow the Professor. They walked toward the Gryffindor common room.

"Your father gave it to me the day before he was murdered. He had a bad feeling and gave it to me. He then asked me to give it to you when you were ready. I hope you won't abuse its power." Dumbledore's eyes shined in mirth and Harry got the feeling than one or two pranks were allowed.

"Do you have a room for me to practice martial arts? I can't train when it rains and I must be alone."

Dumbledore thought for a moment before he snapped his fingers. He turned around and walked another way. Harry followed after.

"The Room of Requirement is a magical room. You have to walk past the room three times thinking about what you need. Try it now." Harry did as Dumbledore told him and thought of a field with green grass and beautiful flowers. A door appeared and Harry walked through it. He smiled at the sight. The field looked exactly as the scene Harry had thought of.

Dumbledore walked into the room. He nodded to Harry and held out a hand. A large book appeared in his hand. He explained more of the room to Harry.

"This room will create what you think of. But be warned, you can't create food. You can summon it if you know where it is, you can transform it, you can increase the quantity if you've already got some."

Dumbledore left Harry after the explanation. Harry transformed the room into an empty room. He then wished for some opponents. The room created three human-sized dolls that instantly attacked Harry. He worked out for thirty minutes before he needed to go back.

A/N: Well… not too happy nor to angry about this chapter. This is the first major turn away from the original book…

Still looking for: Beta reader(s) and reviews.

Happy New Year!

Burning Ryoma


	8. A rough night in a dark forest

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Chapter 8: A rough night in a dark forest.

Harry was studying in the library. It was only a week before exams were due to start and his brain's capacity was pushed to maximum. He was looking over some Charm notes when Professor McGonagall gave him a note and walked away without a word. Harry read the note and groaned.

_Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight._

_Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall._

_Professor McGonagall._

Harry had forgotten that he still had detentions to do after the troll incident. Neville and Malfoy would join him. They both got detention after a spat during a Potion lesson. He still remembered Snape's fury when Malfoy claimed he was innocent. "_You nearly killed me after that failure of potions and you dare to claim that it wasn't your fault!" _This was the first that Harry had seen an angry Snape.

At eleven o'clock that night, they said good-bye to their friends and went down to the entrance hall. Filch was already there with Malfoy.

"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.

Filch was clearly enjoying himself as he walked out from the castle. He mostly ignored Harry and Neville, while he leered at Malfoy. Filch had not forgot that it was Malfoy that lied to him.

They marched across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted.

The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lightened windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Harry's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. His relief must have showed on his face, because Filch said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy – it's into the forest you're going and I'll be disappointed if you'll all come out in one piece."

At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his track.

"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night – there's all sort of things in there – werewolves, I heard."

Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry's robe and made a choking noise.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" asked Filch, his voice crackling with glee. "Should've thought of the werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow and a quiver of arrows hanging over his shoulder.

"Abou' time," he complained loudly. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry?"

"You shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly. "They're here to be punished after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin' lecturin' them, eh? 's not your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch. "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Malfoy now turned to Hagrid. Harry saw that he was paler than usual.

"I'm not going into that forest," he said, and Harry was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. " Yeh've done wrong an' now ye've got ter pay for it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd –"

" – tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. He was clearly tired of Malfoy's whining. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If you think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on."

Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously but finally dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid. "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, and I don't want no one taking risks. Follow me over here for a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? The silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

"There's nothin' in the forest that'll hurt you if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "And keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split into two parties an' follow the trail in different directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. Draco clearly didn't believe him."So me and Neville will go one way and Draco, Harry and Fang'll go the other way. Now, if any of us find the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now – that's it – an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh – so be careful – let's go."

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path. Hermione and Hagrid took the left path while Harry, Malfoy and Fang took the right one.

The two rivals and one coward walked in silence, their eye on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry mused aloud.

"Not fast enough," Draco replied without his usual venom. "It's not easy to catch a unicorn, they're powerful magical creatures."

Harry heard some unusual sound from the trees sometimes but he never found anything dangerous. They walked for nearly an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the hurt creature had been trashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

"Look—" he murmured, holding out his hand to stop the Slytherin. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.

It was the unicorn, all right, and it was badly hurt. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. It's long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles were it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly white on the dark leaves.

Harry had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered… then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Fang and Malfoy stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn but hesitated and turned to them. The dark creature looked straight at Harry and chuckled. Harry and Malfoy shivered at the figure's cold voice. Fang bolted away with a frightened bark.

"Harry Potter, finally! How nice to meet you again," He walked toward Harry who couldn't because of his fear. Draco glanced at Harry and decided to help him. Malfoy pointed his wand at the cloaked figure and he yelled a strange name. A spell shoot toward the figure. But he made a lazy hand movement and the spell died away.

"No way! That was my strongest spell and he defeated it so easily…we're doomed." Malfoy fell to the ground and he was even more paler than usual. The monster reached them and a pain like Harry'd never felt before pierced his head. But two men saved Harry and Draco. They appeared behind the cloaked man and pushed their right hands again the monster's back. It shrieked in pain but Harry noticed that its scream sounded like two different voices.

The figure turned to the two men and hissed in annoyance. He shouted a name and a green spell speeded toward the white haired newcomer, he was the same man who saved Harry from the troll, but the old man simply disappeared. He appeared just in front of the figure and kicked him. The figure hissed but decided to retreat. He vanished with a loud crack. The white haired man quickly rushed to the unicorn while the other male, the blonde Harry had seen before, checked Harry and Draco for any injuries. He spent a minute on them before he joined his companion.

Harry saw green light coming from the white haired man's hands as he moved them over the unicorn. He was amazed when he noticed that the light healed the unicorn's wounds. The man finished healing the animal after thirty minutes and walked over to the two boys. He then guided the boys back to the castle.

Harry prepared to go back to the common room when Malfoy stopped him.

"This change nothing, Potter. I still hate you!" He said and walked away with his nose high in the air. Harry smiled. Malfoy had shown some courage today but he was still like a child.

Ron and Hermione had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for him to return. Harry sniggered when Ron shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a matter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the forest.

The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went to bed exhausted, their throat soared. But Harry couldn't sleep so he decided to write a letter to Ginny instead.

_Dear Ginny._

_You won't believe what happened to me…_

A/N:

I'm so sorry for the loooooong waiting time. This chapter was a pain in the a**. But I'm back. What do you think of a slightly nicer and slightly braver Draco? Or should I turn him to a Voldemort light? Any ideas and suggestions to the story are appreciated.

The first story is soon finished. I'll write the second and third book but I'm not sure after that.

As always: Looking for beta reader(s)

Cheers,

BurningRyoma


	9. Quirrell's chase after the stone

I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 9: Professor Quirrell's chase after the stone.

In years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he had managed to get through his exams when he half expected the dark figure to come bursting through the door at any minute.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anticheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox – points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a forgetfulness potion.

The very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self stirring cauldrons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchments, Harry couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," Hermione said as they joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."

Hermione always liked to go through their exam papers afterwards, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows. "No more studying," sighed Ron happily, stretching out on the grass. "Is that a letter from Ginny?" Ron had accepted that Harry and his sister wrote to each other. He was just happy that Ginny didn't disturb him.

Harry looked up from the parchment and nodded. He read the letter and thought of a reply to her when Harry thought of something horrible. Harry jumped to his feet.

"Where're you going?" asked Ron sleepily.

I've just thought of something," said Harry. He had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid now."

Professor Quirrell smirked at the snoring dog. He placed the enchanted harp on the ground and opened the trapdoor. He jumped through the hole. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and –

FLUMP. With a funny muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant. He recognised the plant as a devil snare. He quickly threw an _incendio_ on the plant. The plant vanished in seconds. He noticed a stone passageway and walked towards it. But he stopped when he heard something. He looked back and saw that the plant was reappearing. He shrugged his shoulders and continued forward.

He reached the end of the passageway and saw before him a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above him. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

He quickly fired a spell that located the right key. He tried to summon it but it didn't work. But Quirrell was a competent wizard and he quickly countered the charm so he could summon the key, which he did. He could feel the adrenalin pumping in his body as he could faintly feel the power of the stone.

He rammed the struggling key into the lock and turned. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again. He pulled the door open.

The next chamber was so dark he couldn't see anything at all. Bu as he stepped into it, light suddenly floored the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

He was standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than he was and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing him, way across the chamber, were the white pieces.

Quirrell grimaced. He knew nothing at all about chess. But his master, Lord Voldemort, calmed him down and thought a spell to Quirrell. The stuttering Professor tried the spell and cackled insanely as all the pieces were forced to the sides of the chamber. He confidently walked across the chamber and through the door that the white chessmen had guarded.

He smiled when a troll growled at him. Quirrell used the same spell to throw the troll at the wall. He then used the Avada Kedavra to kill the troll while it was confused. The green spell hit the troll and it died instantly.

He pulled open the next door and saw a table with seven differently potions. He stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind him in the doorway. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. Quirrell saw a roll of paper and read it:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our numbers hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

Professor Quirrell grumbled as he tried to solve the quiz. Voldemort grew tired of Quirrell's slow mind and told him that the right one was the smallest bottle.

Quirrell looked at the tiny bottle and noticed that there was enough for two persons. He took a long drink. It felt like ice was flooding his body. He put the bottle down and walked forward; he braced himself, saw the black flames licking his body, but couldn't feel them – for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire – then he was on the other side, in the last chamber.

What he found on the other side of the fire, however, wasn't what he had expected. Standing in front of an elegant mirror were the four Heads of House: Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout. Quirrell realized then and there that they had known all along that he was after the Stone, but it was too late for him to do anything about it.

"I'm disappointed in you, Severus. How dare you betray me even after Quirrell warned you?" Voldemort's cold voice from Quirrell shook all of the teachers. The four Heads of House fought bravely but Quirrell's abilities and Voldemort's experience was beyond their abilities. Quirrell pointed his wand at Snape and prepared to kill the traitor when they heard someone enter the room. Quirrell turned around and smirked in triumph when he saw Harry in the doorway.

"What are you doing here, foolish boy? Run!" Severus Snape shouted to Harry. But it was too late. Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprung out of thin air and wrapped themselves around Harry.

"Now wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror." It was only then that Harry realized that a mirror was standing behind the evil teacher.

"This mirror is the key to finding the stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this… but he's in London… I'll be far away by the time he gets back…"

Quirrell walked around the mirror to look at the back. He came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily at it.

"I see the stone…I'm presenting it to my master…but where is it?" Quirrell growled as he tried to find the stone.

"I don't understand… is the stone _inside_ the mirror? Help me, master!"

And to Harry's horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.

"Use the boy… Use the boy…"

Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes – Potter – come here."

He clapped his hand once, and the rope binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet.

"Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look into the mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry walked toward him.

_I must lie, _he thought desperately. _I must look and lie about what I see, that's all._

Quirrell moved close behind him. Harry breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again.

He saw his reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at him. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. The reflection winked and put the stone back in its pocket – and as it did so, Harry felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow – incredibly – he'd gotten the stone.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Harry knew he had to lie.

"I see myself shaking hands with Professor Dumbledore," he invented. "I—I've won the house cup for Gryffindor."

Quirrell stared at Harry before he cursed.

"Get out of the way," he said. As Harry moved aside, he felt the philosopher's stone against his leg. Dare he make a break for it?

But he hadn't walked five paces before a high voice broke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.

"He lies…He lies…"

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted.

The high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him…face-to-face."

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough…for this…"

Harry felt as if Devil's snare was rooting him to the spot. He couldn't move a muscle. Petrified, he watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned on the spot.

Harry would have screamed, but he couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.

"Harry Potter," It whispered.

Harry tried to take a step backward but his legs wouldn't move.

"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor… I have form only when I can share another's body… but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds… Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks… but once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own… Now… why don't you give me that stone in your pocket?"

So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Harry's legs. He stumbled backwards.

"Don't be a fool," Snarled Lord Voldemort. "Better save your own life and join me… or you'll meet the same end as your parents…they died begging me for mercy."

"Liar!" Professor Snape suddenly shouted. He was on the ground, bleeding, but he still had some strength in his eyes. "Don't give up, boy. Your father had many faults but he was brave. And so was your mother."

Voldemort's eyes flashed in anger before he ordered Quirrell to deal with Snape. Quirrell pointed at Snape and snarled "Sectumsempra!"

Snape screamed in pain and a large wound appeared from Snape's right shoulder to his left hip. He lost consciousness soon after that.

Harry sprang toward the flame door, but Voldemort screamed "SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Harry felt Quirrell's hand close to his wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him. The pain in his head lessened – he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers – they were blistering before his eyes.

"Hurt him!" Voldemort calmly ordered to Quirrell. His servant pointed his wand at Harry and shouted "Crucio!" A red light escaped from the wand and it Harry. PAIN! AGONY! Harry had never felt such pain before. The torture kept on for a minute before Quirrell cancelled the spell. Harry fell to the ground and didn't move again.

"I did it! The stone is yours, master." Quirrell's blistered hand reached toward Harry's pocket. But the hand never reached the pocket. A sword appeared from nowhere and severed his hand. The white haired man that had cancelled his plans in the forest retrieved his tossed sword. A blonde teenager, whom he had also seen in the forest, punched his face. Quirrell flew back fast and hit a wall very hard.

Voldemort realized that he had no chance against the two unnatural humans and decided to survive and fled. A red bird appeared in the air and cried over Snape's wounds. The two men watched interested as the wounds quickly vanished due to the tears. They then proceeded to take all the teachers and the student to the hospital ward.

A/N: The chapter is edited. I hope it's better than the former chapter.

One more chapter and I'm done with this book. Good or bad? Please review and tell me what I can improve.

Still looking for beta reader(s).

Anyone here who've heard Ragtime Roger, Jonny May etc. live when they've played?

Burning Ryoma


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